Life Creeps (Birthday)

Life creeps.
Gently nudging our passions,
challenging our fears, desires, hidden dreams.

Through years, time gathers truths, lies, promises, successes and defeats to serve us at the end.

Bringing sun, moon, stars, to pass the time…
while we pass the years wondering
…are we doing it right?

Like seasons, we are new each year.
Sometimes stronger, sometimes weaker,
creating a new path in the freshly born year that lays ahead.
Given the gift of starting fresh,
what will we learn?
what will we teach?

The grass grows more quickly behind us
now,
the weeds more quickly in front.
Throwing seeds ahead, we push to plant
before the weeds can grow.
Shining, sparkling colors bloom before
my eyes.

Like children taking their first step,
I strive for steady footing.
Absorbing the shock, backed by
the power of love, I won’t fall off.

‘Spring Formation 1’ by  Inez

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yessir, I’ll be careful

yesssir I’ll be careful, in dark, and cold, and night.
walking streets I’ve never known.
over shoulders, looking at bullies, beauties, and, beasts …
I’ll tip-toe past… with quiet, velvet pointed steps,
prance through puddles.
shimmy through grass,
tread softly over gravel,
to home.

yessir, I’ll be careful, when driving cars on rainy nights.
slowing on yellows and stopping on reds,
dodging drops, with blades on high.
sloshing tires through murky puddles,
looking under parked cars for tiny feet,
playful paws,
running to dodge the rain.

silently sneaking, squeezing through the window.
announced by happy dogs, sleepy cats, bells and whistles,
telling all
I’m home!

yessir, I’ll be careful when (while) growing up.
learning to read,
following my dream,
falling in love.

But, where will you be (sir), if the tire goes flat,
the blades break, or, the paws run the wrong way in the rain?
Will that window be open, if I’m slow to read,
get lost in my dream,
leave you, to fall in love, love,
love… ?

the suit

i watch him go to work each day
his briefcase in his hand
i wonder does he leave his mark
does he make a stand

when lights are out and doors are locked
does anyone know he’s been there
when books are closed and pens are dry
does anybody care

“i do” a voice cries from within
“i’m not just another suit,
this work’s not easy every day
not every man could take this route”

at night he sits, computer bound
his fingers buttons push
his mind the wheel his thoughts the tape
that calculate the truth

tomorrow he will walk again
but i know where he’s (you’ve) been
and the passions of a dreamy man
sit home and wait
for him